" The beginning of love is the will to let those we love be perfectly themselves, the resolution not to twist them to fit our own image. If in loving them we do not love what they are, but only their potential likeness to ourselves, then we do not love them: we only love the reflection of ourselves we find in them "
*
Thomas Merton *
Four hours had passed, but it seemed like ages. Which bride would wish to be kept alone after her nikkah at her own house, without the rukhsati being held? Was that a wrong decision of telling him, that I'm a divorcée? I flushed back hot tears, drinking in the pain while doing so. It's hard to cry but it's harder trying not to.
Azfar's mum was a very kind lady. Ms. Sakeena. She was a divorcée too. I don't know why she began treating me as her daughter and had made me lay down since past two hours, as the remaining two I had spent in agonizing the time that it was against me.
She told me about her past, about her broken marriage, about the man who betrayed them , the way she was left all alone when Azfar was quite young to even know the meaning of the phrase 'getting separated '. Hearing out her seemed as if I'm listening to my own story, though honestly I never knew the reason why Farhaan betrayed me. He never gave any explanations. What a cruel day it is, nostalgia and longings.
She made a carrot soup for me and asked me to drink it, that was really disgusting as I didn't like carrots much. It tasted bitter. Or maybe I was the one bitter.
Nearly 6:00 pm, I had finished my soup and had began rummaging across my room impatiently shifting one foot from the other to maintain a steady pace. I was bad at counting time.
What takes you so long to choose about me Azfar? I was angry and mad at him, and at the same time I was feeling like a fool to have let him know everything the same day of my wedding.
A phone call interrupted my pace, and I stopped to look at his mum who was smiling while on call. Should I expect this to be Azfar?
I was looking at her with pleading eyes, cleanly evident from my low hung face to give me any hint about who the person was.
" Okay beta, yes we're coming. "
She hanged up the call and then turned towards me.
" Zahra bitya ( endearment for daughter ) you can smile like the Cheshire cat now, Azfar has asked you to bring to our home. It's time for your rukhsati. "
Again tears welled up my eyes, but this time I let them fall. I had no one to bid goodbyes to, except this home. It mostly had wild haunted memories but it definitely had some sweet ones too. And I had thought Azfar would be the one bringing my baraat ( arrival of the bridegroom in a special event ) at my place. I thought my prince charming would ride a horse and take his princess to his home.
I remembered the rhyme we used to sing back at school, though it was old in times but rhymes are never old, that life can just be a pleasant dream but the reality is am antonym to it.
* Merrily, Merrily, Merrily, Merrily... Life is but a dream *
" What're you thinking Bitya? Pls go and change your dress. I've prepared your clothing and accessories in your room. Take your hassle-free time. It's now his turn to wait and go mad. "
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Happily after Ever { SLOW EDITING }
SpiritualHe was deprived of his Father's love since childhood,and he had seen his parents going through worst relation in which his mother was under state of mental and physical abuse. After their divorce his mother had made a lot blood and sweat to make him...
